Cold
by TVTime
Summary: Rory wakes in the night to find that Sam is quite cold. Future Sam/Rory one shot. Rated M for somber content.


**A/N: Just a very short, future Sam and Rory one shot. It isn't necessarily a part of the same character universe as any of my other Sam/Rory fics, although I suppose it can be if you want to imagine it as such. Be warned, it's not a happy piece.**

**Cold**

Cold. Rory felt cold as he slowly drifted out of sleep. He snuggled further back against Sam's chest and then tangled his fingers together with Sam's in an attempt to fight the dreadful cold and gain a little warmth and comfort. There was none to be had however; Sam felt just as cold as Rory did. Rory sighed and tried to go back to sleep.

As he slowly settled back in and tried to return to his slumber, Rory couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. Rory was almost never cold when he slept. In fact he was usually a bit too hot. Sam liked to hold him as they slept, and over the many years that they had shared a bed Rory had very rarely complained about the closeness, or even the heat. Instead the couple just made it a habit to turn the thermostat down low and spend the night enjoying each other's warmth. Tonight however, seemed to be an exception. There was no warmth to be found for Rory as he pressed himself against Sam's body and he just couldn't figure out why.

Suddenly fear crept into Rory's stomach. Something _was_ wrong. Sam shouldn't be this cold; Sam was never this cold. Rory held his breath, partially in fear and partially to hear better. Silence. Sam wasn't just cold, he was silent too. Missing was the peaceful in and out cadence of his breath. Gone was the gentle rise and fall of his chest as it pressed against Rory's back.

"Sammy?" Rory called out as he squeezed his husband's hand, his very cold hand.

"Sammy, are ye' asleep?" Rory asked, his voice hitching just slightly at the end. Sam was asleep. Sam _had _to be asleep. He must have just been sleeping very deeply, yet for some reason breathing very shallowly. That made sense; that was possible. Besides, Rory was cold, why couldn't Sam simply be cold too?

"Sam, will ye' wake up please?" Rory pleaded as he gently pulled himself loose from Sam's heavy arms and rolled to face him.

He looked very peaceful in the dim light which was pouring in from their bedroom window. Of course Sam always looked peaceful when he slept. Nothing was wrong. What could possibly be wrong?

"Love, I'm getting scared," Rory whispered into Sam's ear as he gently rolled him from his side onto his back.

"Really, Sammy, I'm scared now. Please wake up," Rory begged as he grabbed Sam's shoulders and shook him. For the first time in as long as they had been together Sam didn't react to Rory's fear. He didn't comfort him. He didn't hold him. He just laid there. Cold.

Rory trembled as he jumped out of bed and turned on the lamp by his side of the bed. He looked at Sam desperately, praying he would groan and ask Rory to turn the light back off. He didn't.

Rory _had_ to do something, anything to get Sam to wake up. Then he spotted his cell phone on the nightstand. He grabbed it and attempted to punch in 911. Instead it came out 91111 and he was force to hit backspace key with shaky fingers.

"911 what is your emergency?" A voice answered immediately.

Rory gasped. He couldn't believe this was happening. He felt frozen; he couldn't speak. He could barely even breath. Yet he had to do something. He had to get help for Sam.

"Mmm..My husband isn't br...breathing," Rory finally choked out in a strangled voice as he felt tears stinging his eyes. "Please help us," Rory pleaded.

"Okay, sir, let me get your address and I'll send an ambulance."

**-000-**

"Thank God you woke up when you did, Rors," Sam said as he looked at Rory with an intense, loving look on his face. "You saved my life."

"I had t'Sammy. I could never live without ye'," Rory answered as he held Sam's face in both hands and leaned over the hospital bed to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you so much," Sam answered as his arms snaked around Rory's lower back and he abruptly pulled the lighter man off his feet and down onto the bed against his body.

Rory smiled and laughed gently as he made only the slightest effort to resist Sam's strong, firm embrace. "I love ye' too. But I shouldn't be on top o' ye. Ye' need ye'r rest." Rory didn't fight the contact, couldn't bear too. Instead he carefully shifted his weight so that he rested more on the bed than on his husband.

"Well if I need my rest then you _have_ to stay right here beside me," Sam insisted with a mischievous tone in his voice. "You know I can never sleep unless you're in bed next to me."

"You are welcome to stay if you like," the doctor agreed pleasantly as he walked into the room.

Rory blushed but didn't make a move to get up. "Is he going t'be okay, doctor?"

"He's going to be just fine. He'll make a complete recovery. It's a good thing you found him when you did. He's a very lucky man."

"Of course I'm lucky! I've got the luck of the Irish working for me," Sam declared as he kissed Rory's cheek. "And not just any old Irishman either. I've got the most awesome Irishman ever!"

"Hey! Did ye' just call me an old Irishman?" Rory protested pretending to be annoyed but inwardly glowing at the compliment.

"Of course not, Rors," Sam answered smiling softly and looking at the other man fondly. "You're as young and beautiful as the day I first saw you. The only difference between then and now is that I love you more and more every day, and we have quite a few days under our belts now."

"Sounds like a lot o'love then," Rory answered smirking.

"It is," Sam assured him as he pulled Rory close and kissed the tip of his nose. "Quite a lot of love. It's been so wonderful, Rory."

**-000-**

"Sir? Sir?" the paramedic repeated in a firm but patient voice as he addressed the elderly man.

"Yes, it has, Sam. It's been very wonderful," Rory said softly under his breath, before shaking himself from his comforting fantasy and slowly looking up at the paramedic with fearful eyes.

"Yes?"

The paramedic frowned and looked at Rory sympathetically. This was the part of his job he hated the most, but he had no choice.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing else we can do. He's already cold."

Rory let out a sob and threw his head back against the chair. Rory was cold too. So cold in fact that he didn't think he would ever feel warm again.

**-The End-**

**End Note: Sorry, for the grimness. I've been thinking a lot about death today. It's an unavoidable part of life, of course, and unfortunately I think this sort of scenario is about the best any elderly couple can hope for.**


End file.
